****
Stockport, England…
Chadwick accepted the post. “News from my brother?”
“None, I’m afraid.”
“Roland, this is intolerable. The estate is in total disrepair, the rents I will collect from the people will hardly be enough, and I’m out of money.”
Roland sighed but said nothing.
“You are the butler, you have to do something.”
“Sir, your brother left express instructions. You have permission to raise funds if need be.”
“Of course I have permission to raise funds, but how is the question. I could increase rates but the people can’t afford another cent and my debts continue to grow.”
“Perhaps if you stopped playing Faro then you wouldn’t need to raise funds.”
Chadwick narrowed his eyes and slapped his palms on the desk. “Faro is the only pastime I’m allowed.” He stood straight and raked his hand through his brown hair. “I’m not allowed to travel past Stockport, I’m not allowed to have friends visit the estate, I’m not allowed to enjoy a woman’s company—”
“That’s because in the past you did a little too much,” whispered Roland.
Chadwick ignored the jab. “Do you know how hard it is to be the second son of a baron? No, you don’t. Do you know how hard it is to be the son of a woman no one liked? No, you don’t.” He stared out the window at the vast grounds. “I should have been allowed to travel to London and join the theater. I would have been perfect on stage.”
“Agreed.”
“I know you say this because you think I’m a liar, but would you care to consider that perhaps I have other talents?” He continued to speak as if to himself. “I could put on a show, I know I could. I would be the talk of the town. Why, if I had half a chance, I know I could be the leading man in any play I put my mind to.”
He fell into the chair behind the desk and propped his feet on the corner. The sound of agony the action dragged from his confidant increased his sense of power. Head back against the chair, he closed his eyes and imagined the wooden stage, the candlelight, the crowds of fans, all there to watch him. Then after the show would come the hero worship, the adoration. Women would flock to him like sauce on a goose. Notes planning clandestine meetings would arrive in his private chambers. He would pin them on the wall, stare at them, and enjoy the promise of the meeting as much, or more, than the meeting itself.
He opened his eyes and gazed around the room. The library contained mostly books but on one wall there was a painting — the portrait of Baroness Stockport, Ethelinda, Luke’s mother. No portraits of his mother had ever been crafted, nor would they be.
Chadwick narrowed his eyes. What if he could make the money by putting on a show? Surely local peers and those of wealth would pay for a bit of entertainment.
Steepling his fingers, Chadwick formulated a plan.
Excerpt of Maralie by F. A. Rogers
Chapter One
Eden’s Hollow, 1870
For decades the town of Eden’s Hollow sported a thriving community. Old timers spoke of families and children filling the streets, but no more. The population of Eden’s Hollow had dwindled. And although land was plentiful, the workers were scarce.
In an effort to save the town the Mayor had designed a plan.
Mayor Thomas Blackaby stood on the platform from the days of yore as the remaining inhabitants of the dying community gathered in the courtyard for the announcement.
“Citizens of Eden’s Hollow, I’ve asked you here today to discuss a last ditch effort to rescue our town.”
Silence from the twenty or so adults caused sweat to bead upon his forehead. With a steady hand he cleaned his brow and took a deep breath before continuing. “I have a plan. It involves no effort. However, it does require obedience.”
Feet shuffled in the small crowd as he removed the dusty canvas. “This is The Board.” A smooth piece of wood was attached to the white gazebo in the middle of the town square.
Gasps echoed behind hands. Men in overalls twisted their hats.
Mayor Blackaby held his hand up, his palm open. “Please there is no need for fear. My plan is simple. Each year, before we plant our crops, all eligible maidens will be listed on this board. Bachelors will be required to pick one maiden to marry. Children will be the result and the town will be saved.”
A lone hand rose in the transparent crowd. “Not meanin’ to disagree with authority and all, but the few of us that’s left are already married and our kids have departed.”
“Hobart, you have asked a worthy question.”
Hobart puffed out his chest with the praise.
“I have an answer, and again it is a simple one. Land.” Their faces expressed confusion. “We will offer land for any male willing to come and accept our terms.”
“What if they bring their own wives?” asked Hobart.
Mayor Blackaby flushed and scratched his head. This was a contingent he had not considered.
A man in the back shouted, “Keep it simple, say only single men need apply.”
For weeks they gathered and hammered out the details. Telegraphs were sent around the country and within a few weeks a line of eligible males waited in front of his office. Land deeds passed through his fingers in a blink of an eye.
Red, gold, and brown leaves fell to the ground. The men would be busy erecting their shelters before the first snows. Several newcomers complained they would have no time to plant. Mayor Blackaby approached the townsmen with the problem and the current farmers in Eden’s Hollow agreed to share their food stores for the first winter.
Now only one problem remained. How did they find the women for their venture?
****
They made love like they’d known each other forever. Jake rolled over leaving Maralie to face his back. She didn’t seem to mind and snuggled against him. Jake lay still. Soft snores came from behind as Maralie fell asleep.
Hours passed and still sleep eluded him. Maralie’s hot breath tickled the sensitive area of his neck causing a stir in his stomach.
Jake slid from the bed and walked barefoot to the fireplace. Hot embers stirred, the room warmed. The bright orange flames licked the wood and brightened the room. Maralie remained unfazed by the light and didn’t move.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in a high backed chair. Uncomfortable and unsteady, he settled in the best he could. In a few hours the sun would rise. By that time he would be out working.
A list of chores ran through his mind. Muck out the stalls, gather in the vegetables, exercise the horses, on and on the list went. Chores wouldn’t take so long if he was willing to ask Maralie for help, but he wasn’t. Maybe when next year rolled around he would consider hiring a farm hand.
Sneaking one more peek at his wife sleeping peacefully in their bed, he pushed himself out of the chair. Muscles tight, he stretched. He grabbed his coat and strode outside. Wind whistled and howled. Full tree limbs swayed.
Placing his hands deep in his pockets, he shuffled to the barn. There was little need to stay in bed when you couldn’t sleep.
Sleepless nights were a familiar experience as of late. Ever since Maralie joined him on the farm he’d had a hard time resting.
Goldie, his butterscotch colored mutt, loped toward him. She wagged her tail, and her tongue hung out on one side. Reaching down, Jake scratched behind her pert ears. “I guess it’s just you and me again.”
Goldie barked.
“Don’t you start that; Maralie is still asleep and she needs her rest.”
They headed for the barn. One stall was covered in soft hay and Jake went there first and lay down. That was all he needed, a few minutes. Then he would jump up and get right to work.
Other works by Felicia Rogers:
The Renaissance Hearts Series
Book One: There Your Heart Will Be Also
Book Two: By God’s Grace
Book Three: Labor of Love
Book Four: Beyon
d a Doubt
Stand alone works:
Love Octagon
The Painted Lady
The Perfect Rose
A Month in Cologne
Andrews Brothers
The Ruse
The Rescue (coming 2014)
Southern Hearts Series:
Millicent
Amelia
Cora
Wounded Solider Series:
Diamond Mine
Pearl Valley
Emerald Street
Books by F. A. Rogers:
The Board Series
Maralie, Book One
Reuben, Book Two
Vanessa, Book Three
Simon, Book Four
Darla, Book Five (coming soon)
Cora (Southern Hearts Book 3) Page 20
